


Only if You Mean It

by pocketbucky (SophisticatedCat)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 19:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11584506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophisticatedCat/pseuds/pocketbucky
Summary: Bucky goes on frequent dates with a variety of women.But the dates are completely noncommittal. They usually end with a kind 'goodbye' and no promise of seeing each other again.Bucky gets back to his and Steve's apartment after one such date.And their feelings for each other come out into the open.





	Only if You Mean It

**Author's Note:**

> I ran across an article about 1940s dating trends and practices, and it inspired the basic concept of 'Bucky dating a lot but it doesn't mean much'.

Bucky walks her back to the narrow, crumbling brownstone she calls home. 

Mary is a couple years older than Bucky. Sophisticated, beautiful, intelligent. Her black hair is tucked safely under a scarf, and her dress flaps quietly in the evening breeze. 

Bucky has taken Mary dancing on a few of different occasions. He picks her up, they go to a nearby dance hall, they dance and drink for a few hours, and he drops her off without so much as a kiss. It’s just how it has always been. He does this almost every weekend, and almost never with the same girl. It’s an unspoken thing. They both get to have a night out, girls get to gossip and brag about going dancing with Bucky Barnes. Bucky will gloat about taking out the girls. It's a win-win.

The lack of commitment is part of the appeal. There's not obligation to stay in touch, and slim chance of needing to escape a really bad date. If both parties understand, then it goes swimmingly.

Sure it was fun, and Mary smiles and nods enthusiastically when Bucky says that they should go dancing again sometime, but he doesn’t kiss her goodnight, and his glowing smile is only skin deep.

The dates aren’t about finding somebody to spend the rest of your life with, they’re about having some fun and moving on. If the date goes well, they might share a chaste kiss. Usually they just wish each other ‘goodnight’ and make no promises.

As Mary shuts the door behind her, Bucky’s smile fades.

Sure it’s fun, but it sometimes feels shallow as hell. 

He walks alone the few short blocks back to his and Steve’s apartment. He can’t help but hum one of the songs they heard tonight to himself. His low, gravely voice, barely audible, makes him feel less alone. Distant car engines roar in the night. The sweat from dancing cools on his back uncomfortably. 

Bucky can’t wait to be home. He can’t wait to pull of these clothes and flop down on his shitty mattress and feel the soft cold press of sheets against his skin.

When he opens the door to the apartment, Steve is sitting on the rickety sofa in living room. He’s dressed in his trousers and too-big white shirt. His thin back is against the arm of the sofa and his thin legs extend across the ratty cushions. 

Bucky had inherited that sofa from a friend who found it in an alley, left with the trash. Steve’s sketchbook is open in his lap, and he’s carefully shading with a pencil. The cool night breeze blows in through the open windows. 

The floorboards creak quietly under Bucky’s feet. All their furniture, and their apartment, squeaks and groans whenever anyone moves near it. 

It’s not much, but it’s home.

“How’d it go?” Steve asks, looking up from his sketchbook and closing it, tucking the pencil in the space between the spine and pages. 

“It was alright.” Bucky replies. His heart’s not in it. He didn’t even try to sound enthused. 

They have a well-practiced routine. Steve asks how Bucky’s date was. Bucky comments that the girl was pretty and the dance-hall was busy. He asks Steve how his day was. Steve says ‘alright’, and they move on. 

Bucky’s thrown off the routine, and Steve has noticed.

“Oh.” is all he says.

Bucky kicks off his leather shoes and organizes them next to Steve’s by the door. 

“Just alright?” Steve follows up. 

Bucky pulls off his jacket and hangs it by the door. He slides the knot out of his tie and throws the accessory onto a the same hook as his jacket. With deft fingers he begins unbuttoning his white shirt.

“Yeah well, it’s not like we’re gonna get married or nothin,” he jokes, trying to lighten his mood. He strips off his pants too so he’s just in his socks, boxers, and undershirt. 

Steve let’s out a almost sigh of a laugh, “Yeah I guess.”

“Move your legs,” Bucky prompts quietly. Steve slides so his feet are on the ground and Bucky plops down on the sofa next to him.

The sofa and floor let out one loud, simultaneous creak.

“So you’re not actually interested in her?” Steve presses.

“I guess not,” Bucky responds, voice cool. 

Steve continues, “or any of the other girls you take out?”

Bucky thinks on it for a moment, reflecting on his many past dates, “Um. No. Not really.”

The corner of Steve’s lip pulls into a smile. One of his small, almost sad smiles.

“You’re an idiot,” is all he says. It isn’t entirely good natured, though, like most of their teasing. 

This whole conversation has Bucky on edge. His mind reels with half-formed thoughts that refuse to connect. 

Did he do something wrong? Why does Steve seem disappointed? But not really?

Of all the doubts cycling through his busy mind, the only word Bucky can form is a grumbled, “What?”

Steve places his hands on either side of Buck’s face and pulls him in for a tender kiss. Their lips meet, just barely. 

The kiss is chaste and a little awkward and does nothing to settle the violent tattoo of Bucky’s heart. 

They pull apart after just a second. Steve releases a heavy breath and looks down at the ground. 

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles toward the floor.

Finally Bucky’s reeling mind connects the pieces. He can feel the blood rush to his cheeks, and he rubs his palm over his lips and chin, contemplating what just happened and what he is feeling. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, and every thought and emotion is magnetized in the silence of the apartment. 

Steve shoots upright and exclaims “I gotta go.” 

He manages one step before Bucky places strong hands on his shoulders, stopping him. There's no force behind Bucky's hands. If Steve wanted, he could just walk away from this. 

But Steve doesn't leave. His shoulders relax away from his ears. Bucky can feel the tension slowly give from Steve. 

Bucky’s fingers slide down Steve’s arms, gentle, warm, comforting. 

“It’s fine,” is all he manages. 

Steve finally lifts his gaze from the floor to meet Bucky’s eyes. In the low light they’re a deep blue, made darker by his wide pupils. Bucky has spent most of his life looking into those eyes, yet he thinks he sees something different in them now.

Bucky takes Steve’s hands in his own. 

Steve smiles softly before pulling his gaze from Bucky’s. 

“You taking out all these girls makes me so damn jealous.”

Bucky smiles and lets out a sigh before answering, "You know I've invited you to double with me. Mary has this friend-"

Steve cuts him off. "I'm not interested in the girls, I want to go out with you!"

It's undeniable, and realization hits Bucky like a train. There's not hiding from this now. There's no pretending this was some accident. There's no more cowering away from his feelings. He wonders for a moment if it’s possible to be entirely, viscerally overwhelmed with raw emotion.

“Y’know,” Steve continues, voice low and confident, “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, Buck...”

Bucky realizes that yes, it is entirely possible to be viscerally overwhelmed with raw emotion. His eyes burn, threatening tears. The beating of his heart, while not unpleasant, is starting to fill his ears and muffle his hearing. 

Steve is so close to him now. So close. Bucky stares into his eyes, still trying to pinpoint what is it that makes them seem different now. He places a gentle palm on Steve’s cheek, fingers curling into the hair behind Steve’s ear. It’s weird, like this, Bucky sitting and Steve standing over him.

Bucky’s always thought that Steve was the ‘strong’ one, though: the one who could stand up to anybody, put Bucky in his place, but also be so gentle and so kind. Steve: with compassionate blue eyes, balled fists, too-big shirts, and a too-big heart. 

“Can I kiss you?” Bucky asks.

“Only if you mean it.”

Bucky pulls Steve down for another kiss. 

It’s more natural than the first one, more warm and comfortable. 

After only a moment they find each other’s rhythm. Bucky feels Steve’s cold hands, one splayed flat on his chest and the other wrapped around the back of Bucky’s head.

Bucky parts his lips slightly, and tastes the soft pucker of Steve’s mouth. 

They separate then. Steve rests his forehead against Bucky’s. Their breaths are hot and heavy and loud in their quiet apartment. 

“I mean it,” Bucky manages between breaths.

Steve smiles, wide and genuine. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> I'm a massive sap!  
> I also wrote something that isn't an AU. 
> 
> If you want a good time, google 1940s men's underwear so you have an idea of what Bucky is wearing through most of this fic. 
> 
> I'm also experimenting a bit with my writing. I'm trying to make it a bit more flowery and less dry and robotic. 
> 
> Check out my tumblr @pocketbucky!


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